


Frogs and Daisy Crowns

by thehungryinvader



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Brother-Sister Relationships, F/M, Foreshadowing, Gen, Platonic Relationships, Someone stop me, The title may change, and emmeryn has to step in, because y'all know I'm still not over it, happy birthday blueberry king, i'm not 100 percent on board with it yet., oh and they FIGHT, pre-plegia, six years later and i'm still writing fanfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 07:34:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14765310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thehungryinvader/pseuds/thehungryinvader
Summary: "Trust me, Chrom. You need each other. More than you know.” Chrom’s heart flutters a moment, his breath catches. He looks up at his sister, his fingers stilling on the flowers. Emmeryn is gazing at him.“What does that mean?” he asks.“Exactly what it does.”





	Frogs and Daisy Crowns

They do not know who he is.  
He is Chrom, Prince of Ylisse, descendant of the Hero-King himself.

And that is all he is.

They do not know that Chrom loves to spar with wooden sticks in the courtyard, that he loves to play chess with Frederick, the young squire assigned as his retainer. They do not know that his favourite dish is eel pie and that he loves to read to his little sister Lissa, although she is just a babe and does not understand a lick of what he is saying.

They do not know that he is afraid of his father.

The Exalt of Ylisse is not a kind man, though he used to be. Emmeryn tells Chrom what happened to their mother, how she was murdered by Plegian assassins in a botched attempt on their father’s life. As a result, the war between Plegia and Ylisse started, and famine, pestilence and death swept like a crashing tidal wave over both nations.

Emmeryn, who was quite insightful for a girl her age, knew there was more to it than their mother’s death. Many years later, she would comment to Chrom, “Her death was the falling of the stone that started the avalanche. Father was looking for an excuse, and with Mother’s death…he found it.”

When it came to his torment of Chrom and Emmeryn, the Exalt never physically laid a hand on his children, but there were other ways to hurt them, and he found them.

As the eldest, Emmeryn, bore the brunt of it, but it never showed. She remained kind and sweet, and a sister Chrom knew he did not deserve.

Emmeryn was the one who tucked Chrom and Lissa in every night, placing the lightest of kisses on their brows.

Emmeryn was the one who read them stories, showed them how to make crowns out daisies, and how to catch frogs in the brook behind the castle.

Chrom managed to catch three frogs that day. He remembers being seven years old and crouching in the water. He remembers the summertime sun beating down on his brow, mud squelching between his toes as he gripped the largest frog in his chubby hands.

“Look, Lissa,” he said, holding his prize out. “There are three of them, just like us. Three frogs!”

Lissa looked at him with bright blue eyes, even bluer than the sky above them. “Fwogs,” she repeated seriously.

Emmeryn splashed over to them. “Did you manage to catch some, Chrom?”

He nodded and held out the frog to Emmeryn. “See?!”

“I do see.”

“Can we keep them?”

Emmeryn smiled. “Don’t you want to let him go? He probably has a little froggy family he wants to go back to.”

“But it took me forever to catch him, Emm!”

Emmeryn didn’t say anything, just gave Chrom one of her small smiles.

Chrom looked down wistfully at the struggling amphibian in his grip. This was one of Emmeryn’s rare days off, where politics, and ceremonies were pushed to the side in favour of her siblings. He didn’t want to ruin a special day for them.

He separated his hands, and watched the frog fall, down, down to the water below, where it disappeared below the surface.

 

* * *

 

It never gets easier. They grow up, all of them together. There is no more time for frog catching or daisy crowns or story time.

Emmeryn learns the art of politics, Lissa learns the art of healing, and Chrom learns the art of the sword. When Falchion chooses him, his heart almost leaps with joy. The day he beings to wield the sword, he swings it until every muscle in his body screams.

It beings to shape him, because he knows the blood of kings runs in his veins. He is the protector of Ylisse, of Emmeryn, of Lissa. And for a moment, just one moment, he knows who he is. But the next day, he forgets.

 

* * *

 

 

The day Chrom finds Robin in the field, he can’t help but think of a fairy tale Emm read to him, about a girl who was cursed by a witch and slept for a hundred years.

The way Robin laid there so peacefully, she may as well have been there for the past hundred years.

With a head of snowy white hair and razor sharp wit, Robin is quite unlike anything Chrom has seen before.

When they finally make it home, in mostly one piece, Robin is accepted into the folds of the Shepherds.

That night, as they sit down to dinner Chrom finds himself sneaking peeks at Robin, who is watching Stahl wolf down his food with a mildly amused look on her pretty face.

Lissa nudges Chrom from. “You’re staring,” she hisses.

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes you are! It’s _weird_.”

Chrom huffs, but decides to pick his battles and looks down at his bowl of soup. As Lissa goes back to her food, he chances one more look at the newest member of the Shepherds.

This time, it is she who is looking at him, and she holds his gaze for a moment. Then the corners of her lips crinkle up into a tiny smile.

 

* * *

 

 

Robin weaves herself into the seams of life so easily, it’s hard to imagine life without her. It’s easy to get along with her – she’s funny, intuitive, and well read. She can’t cook to save her life, but the fact that she tries her very best each time that it’s her turn to make meals is all the more endearing.   She has a way of making every day life a little more bearable.

But on the field of battle, Chrom finds himself lost again, unsure of how to act or what to do. Robin is a force of nature on the battlefield and off, but always leaves the final choice up to her commander in chief. Robin holds the balance and outcome of every single battle in her hands. And she knows this as well as he does.

As they escort Emmeryn to the eastern palace, run-in with bandits on the road to throws them into the heat of the battle. After ushering Emmeryn and her retinue to safety, Robin directs Vaike, Lon’qu and Miriel into a thicketed area: “We’ll have them wait, then ambush the bandits after we create a diversion!” Robin yells.

“It’s too open there. They’ll see right through it. Tell them to fall back!”  
Robin fires off a well-placed Arcfire, felling a bandit in his tracks. “Chrom, it’s the perfect plan! They’ll never – “

“And I’m telling you to fall back! Miriel, Vaike, Lon’qu! Regroup with the others now!”

Robin’s cheeks flare red with anger, but she remains quiet until all the bandits lay dead or have run off. However, as they survey the smoking field, she storms over to him.

“Chrom, forgive me, but you made me your tactician for a reason. How am I supposed to do that when you sabotage my plans?”

“No one’s sabotaging anything, Robin. Your plan wasn’t going to work.”

“How do you _know?_ Those trees were the perfect cover – they never would have seen them. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Chrom feels his hackles rise at her comment. “Is this insubordination, soldier?!”

“No, it’s common sense!” Robin yells. They are drawing attention now, but Chrom couldn’t care less. Anger is squeezing his chest like a vice, and he wants to stop fighting with her, but the words keep spilling out of his mouth.

“How am I supposed to know what works and what doesn’t if you don’t let me _do_ anything?!”

“You can’t just _try_ things on the battlefield, Robin! People’s lives are at stake!”

“I _know_ that!”

“Then act like it!” he screams, and immediately regrets it.

Robin looks like she’s been slapped.

They are eerily silent, and their words hang in the air, suffocating everyone. Tears are welling up in Robin’s eyes but she saves face by turning sharply on her heel and storming off.

Chrom throws up his hands and briskly walks in the opposite direction, ignoring Lissa calling his name. Once he can no longer hear her, he finds a boulder and drops down onto it.

He buries his face into his hands, but all he can see is Robin’s hurt face. Chrom turns his face up to the sky, where the sun is beginning its descent into the west. “Oh, Gods, what did I do?”

“Hello, Chrom.”

Chrom turns around; Emmeryn is standing behind him, with a tiny smile on her face. “Emm. You shouldn’t be out here alone.”  
“I’m not alone. I’m with you.”

Chrom has no response to this. He stays quiet.

“May I sit?” She doesn’t wait for an answer; instead she finds another boulder and settles down on it, never taking her gaze off of her brother. “I sense that tensions are running high.”  
Chrom lets out a slightly manic laugh.

“She’s quite insightful. Robin, I mean. She’s smarter than most people give her credit for. So are you.” When Chrom remains quiet, Emmeryn continues, plucking a few daisies from the patch beside her boulder.

“I think that’s why you both intimidate people so. Without meaning to, of course. But it’s something that most leaders tend to do, intentionally or not. But she intimidates you more than you do her. She will always test you. She’s good for you.” Emmeryn deftly starts to weave the daisies together.

“Not right now, she’s not,” Chrom mumbles. He picks a few daisies as well, starts to knot them together.

“No, of course not. You’re angry. No one thinks of anyone favourably when they’re angry. Trust me, Chrom. You need each other. More than you know.” Chrom’s heart flutters a moment, his breath catches. He looks up at his sister, his fingers stilling on the flowers. Emmeryn is gazing at him.

“What does that mean?” he asks.

“Exactly what it does.”

Chrom swallows, hard.

“You two need to apologize to each other.”

“Is that a command?”

“No. Just some advice.” Emmeryn examines her daisy crown, nods in approval, and loops it gently on her wrist. “I think I’ll give this to Lissa.” She stands, smooths out her skirt. “Please think about what I said, Chrom.” She starts to walk away, and then turns back. “Oh, and Chrom?”

He looks up at his sister, who nods at the daisy crown in his hands. “Hm?”

“I’d finish that if I were you.”

And she walks away.

 

* * *

 

 

Chrom returns to the camp just after sundown, where the Shepherds are gathered around a spit of what looks like boar. Chrom’s stomach rumbles, but he walks past the fire and up to the flap of Robin’s tent.  
“Robin?”

He hears a clatter and some rustling before the silhouette of his tactitian appears behind the thick canvas of the tent. “Chrom?”

“Can we speak for a moment, Robin? Please?”

A beat passes before Robin pushes aside the tent flap; immediately Chrom feels a pang of guilt. Even in the low light from the lantern in her tent, her red-rimmed eyes are easy to spot – she’s been crying. “I – I’m not up to strategizing right now.”

“I don’t want to strategize. I want to talk. May I come in?”

Robin hesitates, then holds aside the fabric for Chrom so he can duck inside. The tent is just how he imagined – a small area lit by a lantern; books, tomes, and scrolls everywhere, even on the tiny cot tucked in the corner of the tent.

Robin clears off a small table and gestures for Chrom to sit down. “What do you need?”

He tries to ignore her clipped tone.

 _You need each other. More than you know_.

“I’m here…to apologize.”

Robin’s mouth drops into an ‘O’. He’s surprised her – he feels a tiny sting of pride there, as it’s hard to catch the tactician off guard.

“I realize that what I said was hurtful. I know that you’re aware of…what’s at stake here. It’s wasn’t fair. I’m sorry, Robin.”

Robin smiles shakily, and she picks at a hangnail on her thumb. “Thank you, Chrom. I suppose…I should apologize as well. It wasn’t fair of me to introduce a new tactic without consulting you first. I know you care for your men.”

“I care for you too,” Chrom blurts.

Robin’s head snaps up, and the hope in her eyes makes Chrom’s chest fill with warmth.

They sit in silence, never breaking their gaze, before Chrom remembers. “I…I made this earlier.” He presents the ring of daisies to her. “A peace offering.”

Robin chuckles. “It’s for me?”  
“Of course.”

Robin arranges the flower crown on her head. “How does it look?”

Backlight by the glowing light, the daisy crown makes her look like a fairy queen, stunningly ethereal in a way only Robin could be.

He gazes at her, and answers, truthfully, “Beautiful.”

 

* * *

 

They join the Shepherds for roast boar later that night, Robin still wearing her flower crown, wearing it with a certain regality that makes Chrom’s heart swell. Emmeryn sits off to the side, watching in her quiet way. He meets her eyes across the fire. When he sits down beside her, she smiles. “You two are friends again.”

“I suppose we never stopped. Thank you, Emm. I needed to…” He trails off, unsure of what to say.

“You know who you are, Chrom. You’re a prince of Ylisse, yes. But you’re also a good man. A loyal friend. You only needed to be reminded of it.”

“You’re right, Emm.” He glances across the camp, to where Cordelia is singing a soft, slow ballad. Robin listens to her, enraptured, wearing her crown of daisies on her snowy white head. “I know exactly who I am.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys liked this! I just wanted to put something out for Chrom's birthdya. He deserves it. Poor guy. Leave a comment if you want to give me instant validation <3


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